Her ankles cracked as she stooped to pick the tennis ball up from the floor. Her back cracked as she straightened and spread her feet again for another try.
Toss, toss, toss, toss, and she missed the next catch.
The tennis ball landed on the carpet. She'd cut slits into each of the three balls and shoved three hundred pennies in. Each ball weighed about a pound and a half.
$2.98 plus tax for the can of balls, plus $9 worth of pennies. $5 for the workout DVD from Goodwill. He couldn't complain about $17.62. It was her only money spent, and it was cheaper than a pizza and a six-pack, let alone a gym membership.
Toss, toss, toss, toss, thud.
The 2 liter soda pop bottles partly filled with water and duct taped to the old broom handle - free.
The floor joists she used for the hangs - free.
The stack of old phone books for the step aerobics - free.
Some space on the hallway floor for her to stretch and run in place - free.
Toss, toss, toss, toss, toss, thud.
Even when she progressed to the point of really being able to do runs of fast throws with the balls, and filling the bottles all the way up with sand, and doing real crunch pull-ups instead of just girly hangs, and real jumping jacks and sprinting up the steps of the art museum, all of it would be free.
It costs too much to get it shape, he always said. Equipment and classes and instructors - we don't have that kind of money, he always said. Don't bother, he always said.
You're too old anyways, he always said.
Well, this is one resolution I'm going to keep, she thought.
Toss, toss, toss, toss, toss, toss, toss, toss, thud.
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